Page 2 of Beanful Wishes

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Tracy adjusts her chair to face me. “What brings you in today?”

“All the buzz about Coffee Loft, actually.” I don’t tell her that it’s my boss at WILM-TV, the local station, who gave me this assignment. So far, I don’t think it’ll work as more than a cute little social media post with a picture of the Wishing Wall.

“I know, right?” Tracy grins. “It’s been the talk of the town. There was a line this morning when I stopped in for my Lofty Iced Macchiato.”

“Lofty?”

“Oh, they have these cute names for their largest drinks.” Tracy holds up hers and I have to admit, it’s an impressive amount of cold liquid.

“Lofty Spiced Vanilla Latte.” The deep voice behind me startles me as it rumbles through my chest in an interesting way.

I turn and lose myself in those deep blue eyes that caught my attention earlier.

“Something wrong with it?” he asks, startling me out of my daydream.

I cough to cover my embarrassment and reach up to take the cup that matches the size of Tracy’s. Unlike hers, my drink is hot and there’s far more of it than I expected. “I thought I ordered a tall.”

“You did. I upgraded you to a Lofty,” Jake says with a smirk that does something to my insides. “Let’s call it a first-time customer bonus.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” I wrap both hands around the large cup, allowing the warmth to seep into my fingers.

“I know.” The man winks—actually winks at me—and strolls off, giving me a nice view of a pair of well-fitting jeans.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Tracy sighs before taking a call from her husband.

I sip my latte, which is surprisingly good. And probably a much better explanation for the coffee shop’s popularity than this Wishing Wall I keep hearing about. The barista eye candy probably doesn’t hurt either.

A few more people stop by the Wishing Wall. Most of them scan through the notes before finding a seat. A shy young woman with her hair pulled back into a ponytail scribbles a few notes on a card before quickly tacking it up and rushing off.

“People really believe in this, don’t they?” I turn back to Tracy, who’s wrapped up her call.

“Of course we do.” Tracy grabs her purse and picks up her cup. “You’ll come around when you see a few of them come true.”

By the time I’m done with my latte, I have a page of notes about a segment I’m ready to pitch to my producer. I dial his number as I walk out of Coffee Loft and head down the road to my car.

“What did you think?” Thomas asks.

“It’s popular, that’s for sure.” I laugh, tempted to turn back to see if there’s a line forming at the glass door. “And you were right. The coffee is excellent.”

“What’s the story?” Thomas isn’t one for chitchat.

I mentally flip through the hooks I’ve come up with. “They have a fresh spin on all the popular coffee drinks. But I don’t think anyone wants another pumpkin spice story.”

“Right?” I notice doubt in his tone. The popularity of the cinnamon and clove spice mixture has been hard to beat when the temperatures start to dip after another hot and humid summer.

“I’m thinking this is a human interest piece. A story about community.” And a place where wishes come true.

Chapter Two

Jake

“Are you open?” a young woman calls from across the street when I’m turning the key to unlock the front door to Coffee Loft.

“Not yet. Give me fifteen minutes.” I shut the door behind me and relock it for good measure. As much as I love the recent success of this particular Coffee Loft franchise, it comes with its downside. Being stalked at five-thirty in the morning is one of them.

My first stop is the coffee grinder. I pulverize a batch of blonde roasted beans and start the first pot of the day. The familiar aroma with floral tones settles me and instantly improves my mood. While it runs, I take a gander over to the Wishing Wall. A sense of pride fills me when I see a fresh set of notecards. I pull a pen and pad from my back pocket and get to work.

The wishes are left anonymously. Some people share their first name or initials, but for the most part, it’s up to me and my fellow baristas to keep an eye on who puts up each of the cards, making a note of their names. A quick glance at their credit or debit card usually gives me what I need to get started on thewish. When it doesn’t, I have a little chat with them on their next visit.

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